Categories: uncategorized
Date: 21 November 2004 14:38:05
No, not last night's London ship meet (budum *tish*!!!) but The Old Operating Theatre Museum and Herb Garret, which is a fantastic little museum built in the roof of an old church building, reached by going up a rickety 32 step spiral staircase which is really NOT for the fainthearted, never mind the exhibits once you get in there! It's the oldest surviving operating theatre room in the country, and gives a fascinating (and chilling!) glimpse into medical life before anaesthetics and antiseptics and any clue at all about hygiene. The Herb Garret contains all the herbs commonly used by the hospital apothecary for the making up of potions, it was fascinating to see what was used for what illnesses and conditions (also very interesting to note that the cure for venereal diseases involved not only herbs and spirits and that sort of stuff, but also 6 gallons of cleansed, bruised garden snails and 3 gallons of cleansed, bruised earthworms). After the herbs, there was a very interesting display of specimens and medical instruments (I have to say, some of the obstetric instruments made me wince, clench pretty much all of my muscles and give heartfelt thanks to God that I was born in the 20th century and not the 19th!), and then on to the operating theatre itself. It was very small, with one wooden operating table, and a viewing gallery for students and sundry people. I had to laugh (whilst cringeing and wincing) at the description of the surgeons, whom it was said usually did their operations whilst wearing frock coat and top hat! There were some fascinating descriptions and drawings of various operations - the amputations were particularly graphic, involving basically a hacksaw and lots of people to hold the unfortunate victim I mean patient down in the absence of any anaesthetic. They also described the box underneath the table which was filled with sawdust and which could be kicked by the surgeon to whichever part of the table was dripping the most blood. Once the sawdust was no longer soaking up any more blood the apothecary (who was present throughout) would be summoned with a cry of "More sawdust!" so the soaking up could continue. I must say the whole thing left me immensely grateful that Lister discovered antiseptics, as the handwashing practices and aprons used left quite a bit to be desired in the hygiene department. The description of the most usual treatment for an ingrown toenail also had me wincing - let's just say it was somewhat on the drastic side and leave it at that!
However, the scariest exhibit of all has to have been the photos of the first two Matrons at Guys Hospital. Thank the Lord I never had to work under those two, they made Hattie Jacques look like, well, Barbara Windsor!
After that I headed up to town to do some shopping - as usual a frustrating experience, expecially as I ended up in Oxford Street which at this time of year is never anything but an utter nightmare. I did feel guilty that I had intended doing some work on my research proposal, rather than doing some clothes shopping, but as I said later in the evening at the pub, if I'm going to do fieldwork in eastern Europe then I'm going to need a good warm coat, so it's all contributing to the student experience, though somewhat tenuously I must admit.
And then to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese to meet various Wibsite and Ship people. It was very cosy (in fact it made the Museum Tavern feel spacious, which is no mean feat!), I was reunited with my Tupperware from Greenbelt, and I drank stout as they didn't serve Guinness. As usual though, good company, good conversation (with quite a literary bent this time - Maddie have you remembered which character's Tale it was yet?), and (not as usual) interesting conversation with the guys on the next table about Vaughan Williams and fat sparrows trying to take off.
Getting home was a tad frustrating. Once I got to London Bridge, the computerised displayed timetable bore no resemblance to the poster timetable, and the man in the ticket office was able to shed no light on it at all, but the basic upshot of it all was that there was no train going to Brockley (or at least, no train which was claiming to). So I gave up trying, and ended up going to Lewisham and getting a cab.
When I got home I settled down with my daily readings (I'm never capable of reading them in the mornings), and read amongst other things the end of Matthew 10: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows. .... Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it." I think I'll save that one for the Bible blog when that starts up (anyone else who'd like to participate, contact Dave at the usual address), but I might add some musings on it here too later. I felt a bit fragile reading that, and had lots of questions (of the "it's not fair, why me?" variety mostly, which isn't my usual style). Sigh.